


trixiechick's Sea & Sky Stories

by trixiechick



Series: Sea and Sky [37]
Category: DC Comics
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-11-26
Updated: 2000-11-26
Packaged: 2019-09-02 06:15:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16781281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trixiechick/pseuds/trixiechick
Summary: Stories written by nw's chick/trixiechick for the Sea & Sky series. Ratings vary by chapter.





	1. Sunday

**Author's Note:**

> kerithwyn: I'm still overwhelmed by the time and talent trixiechick contributed to this series. Her stories always hit the perfect note and were intrinsic to the universe we built. All the thanks in the world would never be enough. <3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The guys establish a Sunday tradition. Rating: Mature.

"It's all about possession, really. And not just of the ball. It's very mental; strategy is key. You would not believe how much a role momentum plays."

Garth sat on the couch next to his lover, intently watching the lines of his neck, and arms, and back, as Dick stared with an unbelievable focus at the tv. The game was called football, and Dick was patiently trying to teach Garth the nuances. Apparently, it was very important to Dick to spend his weekends, for only a third the year, thank Pallais!, watching this... game... so he was trying to teach a bit of it to Garth so they could enjoy this weekend ritual together. Garth could give a pound of plankton about football, though. Last night had been late, and hot, and this morning, they had both slept in until, apparently, ëkick off.' Garth was interested in possession, and balls, and momentum, but not in football.

"See? This is called the option. It can be hard to defend against, if played correctly. Unfortunately, our quarterback telegraphs his intentions..."

Options. Yes, so many options. So many places to start. Why defend, anyway? Garth leaned a bit closer, and put his arm on the back of the couch, hoping to telegraph a little himself. 

"The idea is to get to the goal, but there's also the clock to think about. There are four full quarters to play. For each play, the important thing is to get the down. The goal line will always be there to cross."

Yes, it's important not to forget the _down_ on the way to the goal. Plenty of time, after all. Garth scootched a little closer, and let his arm drape further down the couch behind Dick's back, getting closer to his goal.

"Ok, see, that's a foul, for ineligible receiver, so we're gonna lose some yards. This season's pretty much sucked."

Garth's eyes followed the line of Dick's spine down the thin tank top to the clingy shorts below. No, no ineligible receivers here, thank Pallais... not anymore at any rate. And then, sucking wasn't always a bad thing...

"Now we have to punt, because it's fourth down and we have 17 yards to go, so we're gonna lose possession. Sixth possession we've had that we've failed to convert on. This is how to _lose_ at football."

Dick looked irritated, and slumped a bit in the seat, drawing him closer to Garth's waiting arms. Losing possession _is_ depressing, Garth knew all too well. Conversion, though... He inched even more towards Dick, closing the gap between them, and placed his hand lightly on Dick's leg. Dick broke his concentrated stare long enough to give Garth a puzzled look. Garth gave him an innocent look, which worked so much better for him than Dick's did, and rested his head on Dick's shoulder. Apparently content that Garth was ëbehaving' Dick slid his arm around Garth's waist and settled into the cuddle position. 

"Now, this is where special teams would really come into play. The other team has great special teams, see how the receiver weaves around the completely ineffectual defense of our punting team? Good field position is critical if you want to score."

Pallais, that was _so_ true, it seemed silly that Dick felt the need to point it out. Stealthily, Garth nudged his head until his breathe fell across the sensitive region of Dick's neck, and the hand on the thigh moved soothingly in circles until it was nestled between Dick's legs just below his crotch.

"So far, we've been unable to penetrate their offensive line, and haven't been able to keep up with their passing game." Dick sighed. "We're getting our asses handed to us."

One would _think_ so, but the usual effect Garth's hands had on Dick's body seemed to be counteracted by this.. this... _pastime!_ Garth spared a look at the tv. He really didn't understand this sport. The players were covered in so much armor, he really didn't see the entertainment value. Although, the pants were nice. Not that Garth would say so. A couple of Saturdays ago, Garth had mentioned that he liked the team in the gold lame pants, and Dick had just glared at him and started rattling on about some kind of tradition. Garth really hadn't paid attention. 

"Aw, fuck."

I'm _trying_ , Garth thought...

"See? These guys really know how to capitalize on an opportunity. One weakness in the defense, and they slip through, and get the goal. There's no stopping when you get to a certain point. 40 yards melt into nothing if you have the proper blocking. This sucks. Now we're down by three touchdowns. There's still a whole quarter and a half to go, but...."

Garth thought about what Dick said. Yes, all it took was one chink in the defense, and once you got to a certain point, the only thing left to do is get the goal. So, he promptly plunged his hand up the wide opening of the shorts, to his goal, while sucking as hard as he could (which was pretty hard) on the most sensitive part of Dick's neck.

Dick tried to cry out "Garth!" but the word was swallowed into a moan as Garth's other hand got busy pulling at the nipple that was easily accessed by Dick's loose tank. After a brief bit of, well, full contact foreplay, Dick was raggedly working to get clothes out of the way of skin.

Garth whispered in his ear, "So, have a made a good play? Haven't gone offsides, have I? Not going to interfere with the pass, are you? How much yardage do you think I'm going to gain?"

Dick tried to think of a suitably witty response, but got distracted by the truly awesome sight of Garth's lean, naked form leaning possessively over him. He may have made some gurgling noise that would resemble approval before writhing sinuously, trying to encourage contact.

* * *

  


Dick pulled the blanket that usually resided on the top of the couch over them a bit more. Garth's head was nestled right where it belonged, as far as Dick was concerned, underneath his chin. Sleeping peacefully. Dick played with a particularly long curl, pulling it out to full length, and watching it sproing back into shape. He loved Garth's hair. The seconds were clicking down on the playclock, and the players and coaches were already on the field, offering their congratulations to one another. 

The Dolphins had taken the Knights down hard, and Dick was grinning like a fool.

He started to reach for the phone even before it began ringing, and didn't bother with a hello.

"Another great game, huh?"

"The season's been fucking depressing, excuse my french."

Dick chuckled at Tim's, well, frankness. "The Dolphins aren't even that good!" Well, not the ones that were on the tv... "We've got the talent, this should have gone better." Though, Dick was hard pressed to figure out _how_ it could have gone better.

"Maybe next week will go better. The Knights usually get their game up when they play against Bludhaven. Any chance of getting tickets?"

Getting up is so key, too... "Sure. They're not usually hard to come by. I'll get a bunch, maybe even Bruce will come down for it." Yeah, right. Even if Garth wasn't going to be there, Dick doubted Bruce would come down. A worry for another day. Another life, actually; Dick had spent enough time in this life worrying about that....

"So, has Garth enjoyed his continued education in the game of football?"

Dick looked with unabashed love at his sleeping ëstudent.' "I should certainly _hope_ so..." And he couldn't keep the chuckle out of his voice.

"Well, good. And hey?"

"Yeah?"

"Make sure you clean up before you guys end up _really_ stuck together..." And the little wise-ass hung up before Dick could respond. 

Ah, well. Dick hung up the phone and hugged Garth closer to him. 

He just loved weekend rituals.

  
  



	2. Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garth takes a moment to stop. Rating: G.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> notes: another response to my own Christmas Song fic challenge... and yes, this is a Christmas song, sorta. it's a very somber song, but hey. still good. ^_^ and... it's also seasonal, so for those of you who are not Christmas folk... anyway, this is for rithy, because she just can't get enough of that sweet d/g stuff. ^_~

It would have been criminal to leave them tied up until whenever the BPD decided to show up, so Nightwing didn't have many options. Letting them go rankled, but the blow was blunted somewhat by their age. And with any luck, he had managed to put the fear of strange things that lurk in the shadows in their young hearts, and they would follow something that vaguely resembled the straight and narrow from now on.

Maybe.

He didn't much like the idea of locking up fourteen year olds anyway, even if they did have a van full of stolen game consoles.

It did take a while to sort it all out, though; after all, there was stolen property to be dealt with. After taking the van some distance from the scene, Nightwing was able to determine, with a small assist from Oracle, that the merchandise was from a warehouse in Miami. How a group of six teenagers got a hold of a van full of game consoles from Miami, he didn't even want to guess.

Still, it made the disposition of the stolen merchandise a lot simpler. Dick felt a little like the elves disguised as birds that helped the cobbler, waiting in the shadows as the people from the children's home found the boxes of games, apparently donated by an anonymous friend.

It was a pretty good night's work.

The van he would take back to his garage, and use for parts. It wasn't in such hot condition, so there wasn't that much else to do with it, but it was always useful to have a bit of a scrap yard available.

He was just about to go and get the van, when he... sensed something. Carefully, he scanned the area, keeping still so that he could hear everything, just as Batman had taught him. He couldn't pinpoint it, but there was something...

There. It was probably nothing, but... Half the buildings in the area were deserted, and most of the others were industrial, so anything out of the ordinary at this time needed to be looked into.

He just had to get higher. He could use a line, or the fire escape, but where was the fun in that? He flipped himself over, bouncing off the wall and gaining some height. It only took a couple of jumps before he was really gaining momentum, and was bouncing between the walls like some demented superball. Once he landed on the roof, he went low, and looked for a decent lookout point. A quick flip across the alley on the other side of the building, up the antenna tower, and a line thrown across the street, and he found the source of his anxiety.

Standing in a t-shirt, barefoot, well away from the edge of the building, Garth's neck was craned back and his eyes were open, and he seemed to be just watching.

Dick moved silently, half out of habit, half out of a desire to catch his lover by surprise, and half out of awe. Garth had a funny habit of bringing more out of him than he knew he had.

He stood directly behind him, watching the snow fall on his lover's hair, wondering how long it would take him to figure out on his own what Garth was doing. There seemed to be times when Garth could read his mind, when Garth could tell him what he was thinking or feeling before he could find the words himself. It was baffling, and wonderful, and very, very frustrating.

It was also damn cold, and thermal lining or not, Dick was not looking for ways to extend the evening's adventures.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

"Penny?" Garth responded as if he wasn't the least bit surprised, which could very well have been the truth, given his extraordinary hearing, but since he wavered a bit?

Dick smirked. "It's not much, I'll grant you..."

"I think I'll hold out for a dollar. Or for offers of sexual favors. Whichever."

"Mm, I don't have a dollar on me..."

"Excellent. It's all starting to come together..."

Dick chuckled softly as he put his arms around Garth's waist, pulling him back two feet into the shadows a bit more as he did. Despite the fact that Garth was only wearing a t-shirt and a pair of Dick's jeans, he was still warm, warm enough for Dick to feel through the layers of thermally insulated kevlar. It was... peaceful, holding Garth.

"So, how did you know I was up here, anyway?" Garth frowned just a little. "I was so sure I was being discreet."

Dick looked around. They were on top of the highest building in a six-block radius, hidden near a chimney. The snow had been falling heavily for the last forty minutes, and there were few lights visible through the curtain of wet, frozen flakes. The silence that surrounded them was almost as thick as the snow. It was about as discreet as one could get without being indoors. "It was a shadow. I couldn't put my finger on it... but one of the shadows wasn't right."

Smiling ruefully, Garth sighed. "Well, I suppose I don't really want to get by your notice anyway..."

Dick smirked. Now that he had Garth in his sights, he wasn't about to let him get away. Of course, there were far more pleasant places to have Garth in his sights... Which begged the question, "What in the name of all that is pure and innocent are you doing out on a night like this?"

Garth smiled so that Dick could feel it in the way his hands touched Dick's forearms. "I was on my way back from the shore, and I thought I would just stop for a moment... and watch the rooftops fill up with snow."

Dick's brow furrowed, and he chewed on several thoughts before finally coming out with, "What?"

"It's beautiful, isn't it? No moon, no stars, just the snow..."

Dick dug his chin into his lover's shoulder, and puzzled over his actions.

It wasn't that he was so hardened that he couldn't appreciate beauty. Far from it. For instance, just this morning, he appreciated the beauty of his lover so much, he was fifteen minutes late to work. But...

"It's Bludhaven."

"So, it's not exactly a wood or frozen lake. Still..." Garth turned a little, catching Dick's blue eyes with his. "There are some attractions."

Dick's lips twisted into a grin after several failed attempts. "C'mon. I was about to head home. It's been a long night."

"Tired?"

"Oh, no, I've got promises to keep... and miles to go before we sleep..."

Garth's eyes twinkled merrily. "Miles to go... That should be a good start."

Dick shook his head, and jumped off the building.

His night was only beginning.


	3. Quitting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garth and Bruce discuss Dick's continued employment at the BPD. Rating: G.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> notes: this takes place circa Nightwing #76   
> *stabs current NW continuity* ok, I'm fairly vocal about my distaste for what Devin is doing to this book. but, by pretending that Dick and Garth are a happy couple in current continuity, i'm at least able to exorcise some of my anger into fic. this could be good or bad, but it is what it is.   
> many, many thanks to 'rith, for all her patient assistance, reading, and the implantation of plotbunnies directly into my cerebral coretex... i'm supposed to say thanks for that, right mistress? ^_~

Garth stretched out on the sidewalk in front of their house. It was a rare sort of day in Bludhaven, the kind that he could actually enjoy. The sun was bright, the air was clear and crisp, and no one had tried to mug him yet today. It had been a good day for a run in the park.

The only thing that would have made it better would have been if Dick had been running with him. He loved to watch Dick run. He loved to run next to Dick, and feel the heat pouring out his body in his sweat, the intoxicating smell that was essentially Dick.

Garth smiled, his whole body loosening as he thought about his lover. He grabbed the mail quickly and went inside, aching for a shower. He needed the water right now, and he needed an excuse to run his hands over his body so he could relax fully.

He checked the place over tersely as he made his way to the shower, a precaution that Dick had finally ingrained into him. Twenty minutes and a nice, cool shower later, he made his way to the kitchen, Dick's gray towel wrapped around his waist.

There was something a little off, but he chalked it up to jangled post-orgasmic nerves until he heard the small rustle, far below the register of normal human hearing.

He scowled. "If you called before breaking into our house, you wouldn't be running the risk that I would treat you as an interloper."

Batman grunted. "I'll keep that in mind." His tone implied that the amount of thought that he was going to give the matter would possibly take long enough for him to blink. "I need to speak with Nightwing."

Garth bit the inside of his cheek to keep from retorting too quickly. He measured out the rice, dumping it into a strainer to rinse off before putting it in the rice maker. "Dick's at work right now."

Batman made a small noise that spoke of derision. "He started his shift at 8. I tried his comm line and his cell. Do you know where he is?"

Garth poured the water into the rice maker, and counted to fifty before he responded to Bruce's wild implication. "He's on a twelve hour shift. All the officers are. The shortage in the BPD is creating havoc with scheduling so they are doing four twelve-hour shift a week, to facilitate the cycling of resources."

"What?" Bruce's incredulity and horror was so great, he couldn't keep it all out of his voice.

Garth turned to face Batman for the first time, crossing his arms over his chest casually below his pecs as he relaxed against the counter. "What part did you not understand?"

Batman narrowed his eyes.

Garth tilted his head to the side lazily and waited for Bruce to respond.

Batman exhaled violently through his teeth. "Why is he still doing this? He's cleaned out the force. His mission there is done."

"For the most part," Garth replied conversationally.

"Excuse me?"

Garth shrugged. "Most of the force is cleaned out, but there is still corruption there. Not to mention city hall."

Batman resisted the urge to growl. "What does he expect? Does he think he can save everyone in this city?"

Garth affected confusion. "Isn't that what you are trying to do in Gotham?"

Batman sneered. "You wouldn't understand."

"No?" Garth narrowed his eyes.

Batman half turned away from Garth, as if he were dismissing him. "I should talk to Barbara about this. Maybe she can make him see reason."

Garth snorted. "I'm sure that Barbara would agree with you about Dick no longer being a part of the police force. After all, it's not like she has any personal connection that would make her respect what Dick is doing." Garth kept his tone light and conversational, but only because he didn't want to get too involved in a conflict with Bruce while he was in a towel.

Batman fumed. "If you loved him, you wouldn't support him in this... this foolishness!"

Garth had to physically restrain every muscle in his body. "If you loved him, you would understand that this is not foolishness! It's who he wants to be!"

Batman actually snorted derisively. "He does more good as Nightwing than he ever could as a cop. And it's too dangerous."

"Dangerous?" Garth shook his head in wonder. "He was raised by trapeze artists, trained by you, spent his youth leading a group of super-powered heroes... This is arguably the safest thing he's ever done with his life."

"A vest is inadequate protection, given the areas he patrols. He jeopardizes his identity by being involved in and out of the mask with the same people. And he carries a weapon."

Garth bit his tongue to keep from snarling. "It's required. He's never used it. He knows how to use it. And he doesn't need your approval."

Batman chuckled, a sickening sound. "It isn't a question of necessity."

Garth swore loudly in Atlantean in his head, counting to thirty before speaking. "It is a question of being more than some shadow haunting the dark corners of the city. It is a question about being a part of what he lives to protect. It is a question of who Dick Grayson is. You couldn't understand, because you live inside that cowl, but Dick cannot be satisfied only saving people when the sun is down. He wants to be a servant of the people; would you tell Jim Gordon that his job was a waste of time, that he wasn't able to do half as much good as you could?"

There was a fire in Garth's eyes, and a tension in the muscles of his face, that gave Batman pause. He was reminded that this young man was not simply an appendage to Dick's life, but a very powerful individual in his own right.

He considered his words, and spoke carefully.

"It puts him in the line of fire, all the time. He is expecting too much of himself. Surely, you can see that? Surely that worries you."

Garth could hear the lack of question in Bruce's voice, but the undercurrent of concern calmed him. "I worry about him all the time, as I am sure he worries about me, but I have known him for as long as I have known anyone, and I trust him." Garth paused, his eyes slipping down, as he really considered it. Frankly, it wasn't something he really liked to think about. "I trust him enough to let him make his own choices, and I love him for the choices he has made."

Batman shook his head, his lips twisted in disgust. "I can't understand how you can be so cavalier about his life being on the line."

Garth shrugged, his shoulders rolling easier through the motion. "It's what he needs, Bruce. If you interfere, you'll only push him away. Can you understand that?"

Batman's cape drew around him, closing him off as he turned away, covering Bruce completely.

Garth closed his eyes for a second. He didn't want to hurt Bruce, as much as he might not like having the man in his life. Bruce had as much a right to be in Dick's life as he did, arguably even more, and it served no good end for them to be at odds with one another. It was up to Garth to be the better man, because whatever Bruce was going through now, it would only make things worse for Dick if they were fighting.

He was about to say something conciliatory when he realized that Bruce was gone.

Garth frowned. That was a highly annoying trait.

Dick dragged himself home. Every muscle in his body ached. It had been a long day on the streets, and there was something going on with his 'brother' cops, too; the amount of tension in the locker rooms had gone through the roof tonight.

He tried to think about it, or anything, but he was too damn tired, and anyway, everyone was probably just reacting to the stress of being overworked.

Dick was just glad that he wasn't Amy; her promotion meant that she was now dealing with ten times the trouble, ten times the paperwork, and a hundred times the pressure.

Plus, if he were Amy, he wouldn't be coming home to Garth.

Dick sighed happily as he unlocked the door to their home. He carefully slipped his shoes off on the doormat, and hung his coat up on the hook. Beyond that, he hoped that Garth would understand.

"How are you feeling?" Garth was waiting in the threshold of the doorway, wearing nothing but an apron, and holding a plate of fresh - from - the - oven chocolate chip cookies.

Dick drooled. "Tell me I'm not seeing things... Is that from Alfred's recipe?"

Garth winked at him playfully. "Naturally. I know how to please my man."

Dick put his hand on Garth like a man dying of thirst touching the cool exterior of a glass before taking the first saving sip. "That is true on so many levels I can't even begin to say."

Garth held the plate up so that he could properly greet Dick. When they finally separated for air, Garth grabbed Dick's shirt, and pulled him in the direction of the bedroom. "Now, it's important to keep that uniform clean. So, strip, and you can eat the cookies off my flesh, as long as you promise not to get any crumbs in the bed."

Dick shook his head in wonder, following the trail of cookie scent. "What have I done to rate this treatment, or should I just leave well enough alone?"

Garth smiled at him over his shoulder. "Oh, nothing much.... Just you being you. I love you, you know."

Dick smiled, pausing from unbuttoning his shirt long enough to give Garth a long, deep kiss. "I know. And I'm so lucky."

Garth pushed Dick's shirt out of the way, and held him close. "Both of us, Dick. Both of us."


	4. In the Mirror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beauty's in the eye of the beholder. Rating: Mature.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> notes: this is for rith, because, gosh darnit!, she deserves it!

Dick barely had the strength to speak. "This is so unfair."

Garth didn't bother responding. He just shifted ever so slightly so that Dick would know he had heard.

"There I was, minding my own business, cleaning my hard drive, getting ready for a quiet afternoon, a little r and r, and then bang!"

"Hmmmm...." Garth decided to shift a little more. The very tip of his cock was still inside of Dick, Dick's legs still wrapped around his waist, they were sticky and stank so badly they could probably smell him in Atlantis, and all he wanted was to lay his head down on his lover's chest and go to sleep. "bangs are fun."

Dick smiled, too tired to giggle properly. "It's so unfair. I have all these switches and you know exactly where they are, and you don't have any and if you did I wouldn't know where they were..."

Garth tried to pick his head up to look Dick in the eye, got a little light headed, and decided just to murmur inquisitively.

"Switches. When you are in the mood and you need to get my blood rushin', all you have to do is bat your beautiful eyes.. lashes, or wave your hands around like you do.... And what do I have to work with when I get that special feelin'? It's unfair, I say." Dick's fingers found the back of Garth's neck as if they had lost it, kneading.

Garth chuckled. "Oh, yes, poor unattractive you, can't ever get my blood rushin', as you so quaintly put it, when you need it. My heart bleeds for you, it does."

Dick sighed deeply, with feeling. "It's my own fault for falling for someone so much better looking than me. Of course, there are fringe benefits...."

Garth thought about laughing out loud, decided it would take too much energy, and then decided that maybe making decisions wasn't such a good idea right now. "Mm. Well, you are awfully lucky that I don't care too much about looks. Because, you know, otherwise I wouldn't be waving my hands around for you."

Dick grinned, pushing his face into his lover's neck. "Ordinary guys like me have to rely on hot guys like you making poor decisions."

Garth was considering laughing, when something struck him. "Robbie? You... are joking, right?"

"About what?"

"About... all of this. The, er, switches, and you being so much less attractive than me."

"Well. I am. I'm realistic. I have eyes, and all. I don't have a problem with it or anything. I rather enjoy it, as a matter of fact. But, anyway, it is a little frustrating, knowing I have to work so much harder at this than you do."

Garth was working up the energy to be incredulous. He was also cursing his fate at being stuck madly in love with someone whose rare serious moods usually came right after athletic, adventurous sex. "That is a joke, right? I've been in love with you since we were teenagers! Honestly, I'm the one who has been working in this."

Dick stiffened, as much as his boneless and completely satisfied body would allow. "I know that. God, I know that. But, I only meant..." His voice had that nearly desperate quality it took on when he was talking about something really important to him that he had no idea how to express.

Garth groaned, internally, since he didn't any more groans in him after their latest session. "I didn't mean it like that. I meant, physically, it took me years to get your attention."

"Oh, not really. I mean, I've always been fascinated by you. I guess, for a long time, well, I didn't think of you that way. But that doesn't mean that I didn't find you attractive. Just because it took me a long time to put two and two together doesn't mean that they didn't always add up to four. Or something that makes sense. Anyway, you had my attention. I just didn't know what to do with it. Or,..."

Garth shook his head. This was not a time to be discussing their history. This was a time for sleep. He pulled out, separating themselves slightly, causing them both to moan and whimper. "Robbie. What I mean is, I am not more attractive than you are. You are... the most beautiful man I've ever known. It's just... too odd, to joke about that. You must know how desirable I find you. How hard it has been, over the years, restraining myself. How deeply you affect me."

Dick sighed. "But that's because you... you care for me. Love me? So, naturally, you find me desirable. But... you make my blood boil. Sometimes, I just need to look at you to get going. You are just... so fucking gorgeous."

Garth propped up on one elbow, searching for any signs of humor in his lover. Finding nothing but a resigned sense of contentment, Garth decided, with much hesitation, that they had to get out of bed to settle this.

Sighing viciously, he pulled himself up, taking Dick's hand. Blue eyes opened to give Garth a look of quiet disbelief, before Garth pulled Dick bodily out of bed.

Laughing, and wheezing, Garth dragged Dick towards the bathroom, taking advantage of Dick's lax position to tickle and generally abuse him. Dick laughed, protesting, "What the HELL are we doing out of bed? C'mon! I'm sleepy! Please! Ah!!! Don't tickle me there, you know what happens!"

Pulling Dick's body flush against his own, Garth took a moment to consider what happens when he tickled Dick there. Then he remembered what he was doing there.

"Look." Garth's voice was a gentle whisper against the skin of Dick's neck. "What do you see?"

Dick's eyes turned to the full-length mirror they stood in front of, considering how much Garth's being there with him changed everything. "I see the most beautiful man in the world, holding up his exhausted and spent lover in front of him...."

"No." The word was far more firm than Dick was used to hearing from Garth. "Look. What do you see?"

Dick was confused, now. Was this a game? It didn't feel like it. Why was Garth taking this so seriously? "I see... myself? Naked, sweaty, I've got dried spunk on my side.... damn, I'm not sleeping in the wet spot again. As long as you are so awake, why don't we change the sheets?"

Garth sighed a patient sigh that Dick loved in a sad way. "Look. Follow my hands. Try to focus." Garth's gentle humor. "Look. At these strong, agile legs." Fingertips dropped to flesh to trace lines in Dick's body, following the fluid tracks of muscle on his thigh. His nerve endings fired like crazy, and he leaned back against the solid weight of his lover. "This slim waist," fingertips followed the hipbones to play in the curls at the very tip top of Dick's groin, "not to mention the meaty goodness below. The perfect abs," fingertips trailed through the bevels of Dick's abs, "the broad pecs, the way the muscles flow from your chest to your arms," fingertips now tracing down and back up the arms, "the smooth lines of the neck, the solid jaw, full beautiful lips," fingers played with the mouth, dipping in and pulling out teasingly, "thick dark hair like silk."

Dick was aroused, so deep within himself, even if his body was too drained to show it. He breathed deeply from the bottom of his gut. The air was full of them and he loved it, loved his life right now. He felt dizzy, too overwhelmed. Trying to focus on Garth's words would have been impossible were it not for the lilt of the voice that coaxed pleasure from him effortlessly.

"Look. What do you see?"

"Us." Dick's hands covered Garth's, a simple gesture of possession.

Garth sighed. "Have you no experience with aesthetics? Can't you see how beautiful you are?"

Dick shook his head, unable to process and too tired to understand. "You are beautiful, exotic, strong, magical. I'm... I'm not like the rest of you. I'm strong, yes, but I have to work hard at this every day."

"Isn't that effort commendable?"

Dick tried to focus on words. He wasn't even sure he knew what he was trying to say. "I'm... just a guy, Garth. I'm not like you, I don't have a great birthright, I'm just a circus brat. I'm not like Donna, I'm never gonna be confused with a god. I can't do anything outside the laws of physics, like Wally, I can't hit any target with any weapon, anytime in any situation, like Roy. I'm not Bruce." An inescapable edge to his voice now. "I'm not... driven, or obsessed enough to supersede human limitations. I'm just a guy in a mask, doing what I can. Training endlessly. Making mistakes, so many mistakes."

Garth had to stop him, this, now. He was getting tired of Dick's guilt, and only just beginning to fathom the depths of that guilt. Dick's guilt was deceptive, it wasn't as obvious as his mentor's, but it was just as compelling.

Turning Dick to face him, Garth cupped Dick's face in his hands, and kissed him. "You are beautiful to me, you always have been. I wish I could show you yourself through my eyes." His voice so soft and musical, the accent of his people vibrant in his emotion.

Dick smiled. "Ah, well, having successfully tricked you into falling for me, I'll settle for being able to gaze into your eyes. And who knows? Maybe someday I will see myself there. After I've thoroughly corrupted you, of course."

They were smiling and laughing as they fell, literally, into bed, lying on top of each other to avoid changing the sheets, and because they liked being on top of one another in a heap.

Garth dreamed of making love to Dick surrounded by mirrors, under water.

Garth sat at the computer, nervously tapping his finger soundlessly against the side of the keyboard, watching Dick. He felt his nerve endings tie themselves together as he watched his lover pull and play with his lips while he read. He was well-used to watching and being turned on by the man at the other side of the room; his whole adolescence was spent trying not to be obvious about his attraction. Now, though, when he imagined those fingers playing with his flesh, he could feel their tickle, when he imagined those lips moving down his skin, he could feel their heat and pressure, and when imagined the sweat running down the back of that neck as the dark head settled between his legs to work him into a frenzy, he could taste it.

Garth shifted in his chair, adjusting himself.

Dick had come home that evening early, early enough that there were several hours separating the Officer Grayson part of his day from the Nightwing part of his day. Enough time.

But Garth had a speech to give to the UN tomorrow, and four ready-made speeches from various political and diplomatic advisors that he needed to synthesize into one message that would represent his own viewpoint, the needs of the Atlanteans, and their King.

Not an easy thing to do.

He did not have time for sex. He didn't. He just plain didn't.

He couldn't stop watching those fingers, and those lips.

Dick had wanted to, but easily accepted that they couldn't. He never pushed, not even the slightest when it came to sex. Garth found it commendable, if a tad bit disappointing, that Dick never thought to push when he was in the mood. So tonight, when he came to Garth, gently and sensually suggesting a plan for the evening, Garth wasn't at all surprised by his quick retreat as soon as Garth shrugged him off.

But then, when Dick was reheating his pasta, he was 'stretching', which, for Dick, meant that he was balancing himself on the kitchen island, bringing his legs up off the air, holding himself up on the palms of his hands, his perfect round ass above his head and his strong, lean legs scissored out 180 degrees from one another.

Garth watched intently. Ever since he had first met Robin, he had been just intensely fascinated by his friend's gymnastic ability. And now, he knew how useful such a flexible lover could be...

Twitching slightly, he turned his eyes back to the screen, trying to remember that he was writing a speech.

Dick sat on the couch and put on some music, soft music he had learned did not disturb Garth's sensitive ears. Music Garth found amazingly erotic. And proceeded to eat his food with his fingers. His pasta. With the thick tomato sauce. It was disgusting. Repellent. Watching those messy fingers slip into and out of that mouth....

Garth forced himself to stare at the words on the screen, trying to remember how to read.

Dick finished, and remembered to rinse off his bowl and leave it in the dishwasher. Then went back to the couch to read.

And play with his mouth.

Those fingers were both strong and gentle. That mouth that was so talented and eager. The furrowed brows that needed soothing. That lock of dark hair that insisted on falling into his eyes, and he hardly ever noticed.

By Pallais, Garth loved that lock of hair.

Garth stared back at the computer, trying to remember that he had work, important work, and that it needed to be done, and he needed plenty of rest, and he had a really important speech at the UN tomorrow.

Dick had stubble on his chin; that was the kicker, really. Garth preferred smooth-faced men, disliked facial hair. He was naturally fairly smooth himself, and it usually took a few days to grow substantial amounts of stubble. Dick was borderline obsessive about his stubble, shaving twice a day usually. If Dick caught sight of his reflection anywhere, he would probably jump up and head straight for the bathroom.

Garth watched that stubbled chin move as Dick's jaw moved as he played with his mouth.

It was just so fucking masculine. Garth could imagine the coarse short hairs rubbing against his face, his lips, his thighs as Dick's mouth moved....

Speech. He had a speech to write. He did. He had a job to do. He did stuff. Other than fuck Dick Grayson.

Speech. What was it about, again?

Dick, getting restless after having spent the last fifty seconds in the same spot, squirmed and shimmied until his head was flat on the couch, one leg slung over the back of the couch, and the other splayed out onto the coffee table.

Garth promptly hit save and closed up the computer. Calmly, he walked to the kitchen, grabbed a quick slug of water, and then went into the living room. Where he calmly tossed the magazine Dick was reading aside and lifted his lover into a fireman's carry, then calmly trotted off to the bedroom.

A few sweaty hours and one broken lamp later, Dick lay on the bed spent and boneless, still wondering what the hell had happened.

Garth was lapping up the sweat and semen that had gathered in the space where Dick's abdomen became his groin, just like a kitten. Dick's fingers were pulling at Garth's sweaty curls, almost of their own volition. It took several long minutes before Dick could work up the energy to speak.

"I'm seriously not complaining, but, uh, where the hell did that come from? I thought you had to work tonight..."

Garth paused long enough in his licking to say, "Your fault."

Dick thought for a minute, decided that hurt, and spoke again. "Um, I don't think so..."

"You were the one who was eating with his fingers, and playing with his mouth."

Dick was getting confused, and he hated that. "Uh, and that led to hot animal fucking because..."

"Plus, you were stretching."

"Hm. Yeah, I still don't see..."

"And there's the stubble."

"Stubble?"

"You have a... five o'clock shadow? Stubble. Not an everyday thing, let me tell you, but still, sexy."

Dick was now not only confused, which he still hated, but self-conscious. He had stubble? "Uh. So, it's my fault we had sex instead of you writing your speech because... I was eating with my fingers, stretching, and I have stubble? Garth, are you speaking Atlantean?"

"Switches. You flipped my switches."

Switches?!? Dick thought long and hard, until he remembered that conversation they had had in front of the mirror a few weeks back. Suddenly, he didn't feel so tired. "You have switches! Garth! That's fantastic! So, what are they, specifically?"

"I still have a speech to write, you know."

"Fingers in my mouth? Is that what you said? Kinda messy, but hey, whatever works..."

"More because you were playing with your mouth. And I have to deliver the speech in the morning. After getting myself to New York."

"We'll ask Babs to use the JLA transporter. It's for diplomatic purposes. Stretching, you said? I don't remember what I did, was there any particular kind of stretching you like?"

"That's immoral. And very useful. I have to do some research for the speech too, diplomatic conventions and the what not, still getting used to some aspects of my role as ambassador..."

"Fine. I'll stay in tonight and help. Now stubble? Really? Cause stubble is really gross."

Garth pulled his lover into a deep kiss, letting his tongue roll around in Dick's mouth, tasting every nuance within. "You'll stay with me, really? That is so sweet."

"Garth." And the sound of his voice was so pure... such love that Garth never expected to hear.

"Are you beginning to understand how beautiful you are to me?"

Dick fell into Garth's perfect eyes, focusing entirely on the total openness he found there. And he sighed. "Thank you. You make me feel... well, like Superman. Only, less boy scout-y."

Garth's laughter helped to finish the job of waking them up.

Much later, they worked on the speech together, Dick looking up UN diplomatic conventions while Garth troubled over the wordings of each phrase. Garth, sitting at the computer, with Dick's head resting on his thigh.

Dick caught their reflection in the blank screen of the tv, and couldn't help but be amazed at how beautiful they were together.

They were.


	5. For Show

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Performance time. Rating: Explicit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> notes: this is for rithy, who asked for it, and since she's such a keen gal, i gave it to her. ain't i nifty? as is the case whenever i write titans stuff, thanks to rithy for sanity check. (silly rithy, thinking that i'm sane...)

Garth sighed as he paced through the apartment. He had returned from New York too late to meet Dick before Nightwing had to go on patrol for the night. Vowing to stay up and wait for him, Garth had busied himself all night with menial tasks and vague amusements. He wanted to sleep with Dick that night.

Wandering into the living room, he gazed idly at the clock, ascertaining that no more than 3 minutes had passed since the last time he looked at the clock. He wanted to stay up, to massage Dick's shoulders and discuss their days, and then fall asleep together in a mess of limbs and naked flesh.

It was a nice way to end the day.

But he was getting so tired... Flopping himself gracefully onto the reclining chair, he leaned back, put his feet up, and let his mind wander.

He remembered the last time Dick and he were together, and the shower they'd had afterwards, and the long kiss goodbye...

Groaning slightly, he shifted in the chair, spreading his legs out and rolling his neck around.

He imagined how his lover would look when he came home, and the soft whimpers he would make when his aching shoulders were relaxed, and then hot feel of skin pressed against skin...

He didn't even notice that his eyes had closed.

He let his hands roam over his chest, remembering how Dick's hands felt on his skin, wishing he had calluses like Dick did, wishing he could suck on his own nipples...

He didn't really notice his erection, or the way his hips were moving to rub the cloth of Dick's pajama bottoms over it.

He let his hand roam lower, unconsciously, setting off cascades of sensations that made his brain kick into overdrive. It had gotten to the point that he knew precisely how Dick's ass felt wrapped around his cock, knew the exact heat and tightness of it, knew that if he went fast, he could make Dick squeal, and if he went slow, he could drive them both crazy.

He wasn't even aware that he was masturbating until he heard the voice.

The voice was thick, and easily recognizable.

It was the voice of the leader of the Titans.

"Slow down. Slip my pajamas off. Keep your eyes closed."

If he opened his eyes, he would be able to see his lover and leader, even in the dark, but he followed the order.

He was a good soldier.

He raised his hips to let the loose silk pants slip off of him, pooled at his ankles until he kicked them across the room. He tightened his grip on himself, and pulled slowly.

He groaned from deep in his chest.

"Good, good. I like this view. Very nice. Use your other hand to toy with your nipples. Lick your palm, slowly now. Very slowly. Lick it again, use lots of saliva. Very good. Now, take yourself in hand again, but make sure that your thumb is pointing up, and on the underside. Nice. Now, pull up, slowly, and dig your thumb in. Yes, that works well, doesn't it? Use your other hand to roll your balls around. Lift your hips slightly, and arch your back... Yes, that's a very nice view. Ok, go again, a little faster. Good, a little faster now. That's good. You're close, aren't you? One or two good thrusts, and you'll be done... But first, finger the tip. Let your fingertips get nice and sticky. Ok, now taste yourself. Oh, that's nice. That's perfect. Ok, again, and faster... Much faster... Don't neglect your nipples, tug them nice and hard... Yes, now faster, faster..."

Garth came with a guttural cry. He rolled his head around, trying to stay focused when he felt the tongue lapping at his belly. Opening his eyes, he looked down to see his shirtless lover licking him clean with a demonic smile.

By Pallais, he loved this man.

Taking Dick's face in his hands, he pulled him up for a deep, sweet and salty kiss.

"Have a good night?"

"Since I got home..."

"This wasn't how I planned to greet you..."

"Oh, well, I liked it just fine..."

"Were you aware that you were ordering me around in your Titans-leader voice?"

Dick cocked his head to the side, pausing to think. "No, not really. Although, I was trying to be commanding. So, I guess that makes sense."

Garth smiled down at him, and then groaned. "We probably have to move, don't we?"

Soft laughter from his mate. "Well, we could sleep here, but I dunno, I think we might be more comfortable in bed, where we can stretch out, and spread our legs out, and intertwine them, and spoon up..."

"Ok, ok, you've sold me. Carry me?"

"Sure, let me just inject myself with some steroids..."

"Fine. Baby."

With some assistance from Dick, Garth finally levered himself out of the chair, and followed Dick's kevlar-encased ass to the bedroom.

Smirking, he lowered his voice to the tone he used in the UN when he was trying to impress the delegates with his Ambassador from the Sea act.

"Next time, though, you get to be the star of the show."

Dick shivered, his spine shimmying.

"Oh, I so don't have a problem with that, Mr. Ambassador, sir!"


	6. The Show Must Go On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Performance time redux. Rating: Explicit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> notes: this follows For Show. mucho thanks to rithy for being just so super swell, and being willing to read my silly little fics and let me know when i'm way, way off on stuff...

Dick Grayson lay on the floor, flat on his back, motionless. It was Sunday afternoon, there was no crime to be fought that couldn't wait until later, and he was tired. Not bone tired, or weary, or the kind of tired that he got when he was ready to fall apart at the seams. The kind of tired one gets when one has had a full night's sleep. With Garth.

A full and happy night's sleep.

He had agreed to help Tim with his acrobatics this morning, so he'd had a full night's happy sleep, and a morning's exercise. It was time to rest.

Granted, there were better places to do that then flat on one's back on the floor, but that was where he was, so that's where he rested. And anyway, it wasn't so bad. His back was still a little stiff after chasing those punks over the bridge the other night. So many people had tried to explain to him that the best, most efficient route from point A to point B rarely involved doing a quadruple flip from girder onto a moving truck, but he was still unclear on the concept. The hard, flat surface actually felt pretty good; it helped him to stretch out.

Garth peeked in on him from the hall. Dick was lying spread-eagled, all his limbs splayed out as far from his body as he could spread them. It was an interesting position to be in, offering an interesting view. Garth felt... playful. And anyway, he still had to get Dick back for the other week...

"Comfy?"

Dick grinned. "Join me?"

"No, I don't think that that's how this is going to play out, my friend. I think you are going to get out of those shorts. And I want your shoulders to keep touching the floor the whole time."

Dick started, stunned. Garth's demeanor suggested that he was negotiating with a particularly difficult country over ocean mining rights.

Dick had been so looking forward to this...

Sighing, he lifted his hips and pushed down his nylon shorts, not able to push them down too far without sitting up more. Therefore, he had to shimmy the rest of the way, wiggling his hips until the shorts were around his feet. Kicking them away, he lay back, ready for the next set of instructions.

Garth grinned, pleased with the manner in which his instructions were carried out. "Good. Now, lift your shirt up until it is at your shoulder. Good. Now, I want you to tease your nipples. Lightly, just roll them around. Nice. Keep your shoulders down. Thank you. One hand can drift lower, if you like. Your choice as to which. All right, now, I want to hear you. Make some noise, let me know what you are feeling. No words, but let me hear your pleasure."

Dick groaned. Under the best of circumstances, his lover's voice could inspire great things in him, and certainly great passion. This was most definitely the best of circumstances. He wondered if he would come just from hearing Garth tell him to? Probably.

"I want both of your hands lower now. Lower. I want you to raise your ass up a little, let your hands wander all over. Yes. Lower, now, let your fingers tease your sensitive hole... You like that, right? That's what you want, for me to be there with you, making you slick to get ready to take me in, drive you... That's what you want, that's what you are thinking about, isn't it? Take your erection in hand. Yes. Now, pull. Hard. Again. Leave the other hand where it was. Again. Again. Come for me, my love. My brat. Come, hard."

Who was Dick Grayson to deny the Ambassador from Atlantis?

As a sympathetic citizen, it was his duty to show the Ambassador all due respect and custom.

It certainly was the very least he could do.

"Are you going to clean me up, now, Mr. Ambassador, sir?"

"Haven't we had the conversation about me doing all the cleaning before?" Garth teased, his soft lilt returned.

"You want to let the maid mop me down?"

"...I'll get a washcloth."

Dick grinned. Life was good.


	7. Whatever You Want

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is it possible to be too accommodating? Rating: Explicit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> notes: thanks, 'rith, for planting evil thoughts into my brain, and, as always, for letting me play!!

Dick shucked his shoes off into the corner of the closet, pulling his jacket off. It had been a long week, but he finally had a day off to be with Garth. And, happily, Garth was home to boot!

Finding Garth at the computer, Dick took a moment to just watch, wondering how anyone could be so elegant when slouched in front of a computer in their sweats.

Interrupting Garth with a long, sucking kiss to his neck, Dick placed himself at his lover's feet, totally content and not thinking about it.

"So, how do you want to start our free day? Are you hungry? Tired? Would you like to go out for a bit first?"

Garth pulled on that errant lock of dark hair that invariably fell right over Dick's eyes. "Whatever you want."

Garth plopped down in the booth opposite Dick, grinning widely. "Well! It's funny sometimes how you don't realize how badly you need to go to the bathroom until someone else suggests that you go?" His violet eyes flashed wickedly.

Dick loved it when they did that.

Still savoring the taste in his mouth, Dick just murmured an agreement. Finally picking up the menus the hostess had left for them nearly 15 minutes and one explosive trip to the bathroom ago, they tried to focus on the food items, while lazily stretching their legs out to touch each other under the table.

Dick scanned the menu for vegetarian items. "Do you want an appetizer? They have a pretty good spinach dip here."

"Whatever you want."

Dick just fell into the bed. There was tired. There was exhausted. There was nearly dead with fatigue. And then there was the hazy place of insomnia and adrenaline where he lived.

He was inventing new synonyms for sleepy when Garth's weight dipped the bed.

"I think I broke my all-time record for number of flips completed on a moving vehicle tonight."

"I'm very proud." Garth picked up one of his feet and started to massage, making Dick whimper. "You deserve a prize for that. And since you haven't eaten since yesterday morning..."

"Mm, 'kay, I know where this is headed. I'm so tired, are you hungry? What do you want?"

"Whatever you want."

Dick scowled lightly.

Dick was getting better and better at ignoring the loud crashing sounds behind him. Tim and Garth were 'playing' in Babs' state-of-the-next-generation's-art holographic projector room. He was sure everything was ok.

He was too busy to help, anyway. He was playing a flash version of Q-bert, featuring the president fighting off communists and hippies. It required a fast hand and a quick eye, but he was sure he could navigate their nation's leader to safety.

Becoming suspicious of the quiet behind him, he turned to see the two tumbling out in a fit of giggles. Smiling to himself, and feeling awfully pleased with the situation and life, he said, "So, have you guys worked up an appetite? Who want to order take out? I think if I push the right button here, we can order Thai food from Thailand that is 30 minutes or your next order free..."

Tim was still giggling. "Sorry, guys, but I have to get back. I have a term paper... and, uh, I'm expecting a call tonight..."

Garth ruffled Tim's hair just before the teen could swing out of reach. "Give her our love."

"Yeah, right. Catch you guys later! And thanks, Garth, I had a blast tonight."

Garth pulled up a chair next to Dick as they said their goodbyes. Shaking his head at Dick's presidential maneuvers, he sighed. "Kids. We were definitely never that much trouble when we were his age."

"Of course not. None of us knew how to hack into the pentagon. So, hungry?"

"Starved." Garth nibbled on Dick's ear, as if to prove the point.

"Careful... Babs has cameras everywhere. We don't want Roy to be able to buy our escapades off the net."

Garth hugged Dick close to him as best he could, letting his hand stray down and pinch Dick's nipple, as if to challenge him.

Struggling to stay focused, Dick watched his little president-bert get smashed by a falling hippie. "So! What do you want to order up?"

"Whatever you want."

Dick bit his lower lip. Was it possible to get tired of hearing your lover say that?

Dick put the last dish on the shelf, amazed at how clean the kitchen looked. And Garth was right, the floor was white. He could have sworn that it was beige.

Putting his arms around his lover's tight waist, he placed his chin on Garth's shoulder and kissed his neck. "So, what do you want to do with the rest of the night? I have to go out in a few hours, but we still have some time together. You want to watch a movie, or do something?"

Garth leaned back slightly, pulling the arms around him tighter and turning his head to kiss Dick's face. "Whatever you want."

Dick suppressed a sigh. He knew Garth was going to say that. "We hardly ever get time to just be together, without any pressure. I can't even remember the last time we were able to just hang out. We can do anything. What do you want to do." He tried hard not to put too much emphasis on you.

Garth just smiled that perfect smile of his. "Anything. Everything. You pick. Whatever you want."

Dick decided to kiss him rather than sigh.

There used to be an observation deck in the Titans Tower. From there, you could look over the harbor, or over the city. It wasn't much, really, but it was a nice place to go and think.

Of course, now the Tower was really beneath the surface, and any observation deck wouldn't have much of a view.

So, instead, Garth was using the vehicle loading bay. All the transport and utility vehicles the Titans maintained were here, as well as a full armament of supplies and tools. The air smelled of grease and engines, spent fuel and tire tracks.

It was not the sort of place that he would normally have found relaxing, but since he had gotten used to being with Dick, a place like this had acquired a certain charm.

They had been babysitting for Lian all week. This was their respite, as Dinah was taking the little Arsenal out for dinner and a movie. Thankfully, it was to the only children's movie ever made that was over two and a half hours long, so he and Dick would have a nice leisurely time together.

He knew Dick would find him here.

He didn't even bother opening his eyes when Dick started to chew on his jugular, lightly, just enough to kick start the blood flow. Dick's questing hands didn't inspire him to crack open his eyes in the slightest, nor did the way Dick's legs managed to insinuate themselves behind and in front of him.

He wasn't going to get the chance to rest his eyes for a while. He wanted to capitalize on the opportunity now.

"So," a husky whisper into his ear, "we have the Tower to ourselves, no place to go and no place to be... What do you want to do?"

Garth pretended to ponder by tipping his head back, inviting teeth and lips and tongue to explore the exposed area more thoroughly. Waiting for just the right moment, he whispered back the words he knew would instigate the most interesting response.

"Whatever you want."

Garth opened his eyes to catch the flash of annoyance, which he hadn't expected, and the wash of wickedness that filled those beloved blue eyes.

He loved it when Dick was wicked.

Before he could even think to protest, Dick had him on his stomach, hands holding him steady at the base of his spine and on that spot between the navel and the groin. "Whatever? Are you sure?" Dick's whisper was teasing and bordering on harsh. "What if I wanted to do this?" And with one swift pull, and a loud tearing sound, Dick brought Garth's pants to his knees. Garth just had time to gasp when Dick started to lick his way up from thick thigh to the bottom of Garth's hard ass. Pausing briefly, Dick started to bite the taut muscle of Garth's ass, dragging his teeth over Garth's flesh slowly and deliberately.

Garth simmered. "I... would think that was a good... idea..."

Dick chuckled in what would almost be an evil fashion. The hand he had on the front of Garth dipped down, to gently pull on Garth's testicles, and then squeeze ever so slightly. Garth sizzled. "Oooh..."

Pulling up, Dick swiped something off the cart nearest them, but before Garth could look back, his mouth was on him again, this time probing in his cleft. Garth just lay his head down on the cool tile, pillowing himself on his forearms, as he sauteed under Dick's attention.

He was not prepared for the cold, slick fall of oil on his back.

"Dick!"

"We need lube, Garth."

"But! That!"

Dick just chuckled some more, this time definitely evil, as he rubbed the oil into Garth's skin. "It's available. It's easy. It's unbearably sexy. And you said whatever I want..."

Garth groaned... The oil was slick, so thick and viscous on his sensitive skin, and just a tiny bit gritty... He imagined how it would feel to have this being the only barrier between himself and Dick, and just groaned again, this time from deep in his chest.

Dick laughed under his deep breaths. Another fall of oil, this time lower, and now fingers insinuating themselves into Garth's hidden recesses.

He couldn't groan deep enough, as the hands he loved, coated in viscous, gritty oil penetrated him.

Keeping his forehead on the floor to keep from overheating, Garth pushed back, trying to take it all in at once.

"Mm. I wonder if I could fit my whole hand in there? If I wanted to do that, could I?"

Garth whimpered, hoping for tension and release, all at once.

Dick's hands came over to grab at him, one slick, greasy hand cupping his balls and the other coating his cock. Garth pushed his cheek against the tile.

When Dick pushed in, one deep thrust connecting them, Garth just moaned. Dick's hands were busy in the front, his hips pushing in the back, and Garth lay on the floor, his body positioned for his lover's convenience, feeling split.

He made his blessings while he could still remember them.

Later, after Lian had explained the whole plot of the movie and acted out the best scenes, and was washed up and tucked in, Garth spooned up against his lover in their wide bed in the Tower, still feeling sore. Kissing Dick lightly on the back of the neck, he whispered, "You know, if you were trying to teach me to be more assertive, you might want to look up operant conditioning in your psych books again, because I don't think that you did it right."

"Oh, I definitely did it right. Trust me. It took nearly a half hour to mop you up off the floor. I definitely did it right. Next time, though, I get to be the one pumped into oblivion on the floor by a grease monkey. I am, after all, the pushy bottom in this relationship."

Garth snuggled in, and sighed. "Whatever you want."


	8. under

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick needs some tlc. Rating: Mature.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: non-graphic descriptions of sexual violence against a child

I put my face in my hands. I don't know if I'm crying or shaking, or both. I don't have the strength to hold it anymore though...

I'm in the boathouse, the boat just docked. The fire....

The only way I could get anywhere near the fire was by sea....

I wish I could stop smelling it. If I could get the stench of burning flesh out of my nose, maybe I would stop seeing it. Hearing the screams, the people, the children begging for help. I could stop feeling the heat. The fear. I wish I could, but I can't, I can't stop seeing it...

The taste of bile is still in my mouth. I really wish I could stop tasting that, maybe I could get my stomach in order if I could just...

The boys behind the alley were 12, tops. They couldn't have been older than that. What the fuck was wrong with them, that they would do that to a 4 year old...

No. No. I... I have to stop. I can't... no.

I couldn't do anything to help with the fire. Three buildings in the Zee Mores went up in flames, the fire started, God knows how, and spreading so fast that by the time the first fire truck was on the scene, one building was already almost to the ground.

There were elderly there, probably felt their lungs filling with smoke before they heard an alarm, if the alarms even went off...

No! No, I can't do this, I can't....

It had to be arson. Most likely. Although, the projects were so poorly constructed...

I heard on the radio that 75 people are estimated to be dead, more injured.

The little girl in the alley was bald when I got there, cuts and scrapes all over her, she was just naked and big clumps of hair and blood...

Stop! Dammit, fucking hell, just stop! Stop thinking, stop feeling, just stop!

I had gone back there to vomit. The stench had been unbearable. There were four boys, and I didn't even recognize what was between them at first.

It sure as hell didn't look human, much less like a four year old girl.

Christ, what the fuck was wrong with those boys!!??! Why, why does shit like this happen? What had that girl done, what had any of those people done?

What the fuck does justice mean? I can't believe there is such a thing, not tonight.

Christ. Why? Just... why. Fuck.

I was shaking, but not crying. I didn't even have the energy for tears. I have nothing left. I'm empty. Dead. I wish I was dead.

I couldn't help any of them. The girl died, in horrible agony. The people, all died, of heat and suffocation. I couldn't do a thing.

I am empty.

Come away, O human child! To the waters and the wild  
With a faery, hand in hand,  
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.

I'm nearly shocked out of my skin, as the soft lilt like water moving against sand touches me, magic filling the space between my love and I. His hands come to my neck, and such heat fills me so that I can only gasp for the miracle of it. He comes around, and kneels before me. He is naked, his lilac eyes vibrant with power and sorrow, his perfect features shadowing his heart's plea.

Without a word, he brings me to my feet, and begins to divest me of my clothes as he brings me to the water's edge. I try to speak, but I don't know that words. I can't feel.

When I am naked, too, he puts his hands and his mouth on me, speaking words that weave magic into my throat, through me. He alters the condition of my being, and I can feel the magic so deep in me... I was still breathing. He pulls away from me long enough to give me a crooked smile, and then he pulls me to the water.

At first, as always, I try to hold my breath, and when I do gasp under all the pressure, I feel like I've been set free from my captivity. It occurs to me that this is how Garth always feels when he first takes in water again, but before my synapses can complete the circuit of that thought, we are moving, propelled through the water by Garth's magic, pushing the currents, purifying the water as we pass through it. We move so fast, I can't see anything but motion.

We spin and turn, the bubbles and the churn of water reminding me of cheap science fiction shows. Purple light and energy surrounds us.

I am oddly at home.

We stop, and it takes a moment for me to realize it. I look up, around, everywhere. There isn't much to see but Garth. He's perfect, his nude body outlined in violet.

He smiles, a rakishly beautiful smile that makes me want to laugh, even now, and brings his hands together, as if in prayer. His eyes close, and I can see each lash outlined in the energy of his magic spilling out of his eyes. His hands glow from the inside, and he separates them, as he opens his eyes, smiling broader.

He holds the light of the sun in his hands, but miraculously, it isn't hard to look at. It illuminates without burning.

As he separates his hands further, the light dissipates, filling the chamber we are in. I gasp, as I really see.

We are in a groove of an iceberg, the long slanting walls made of thick, heavy ice bigger than any mountain I've ever climbed. It's like being in a crystal palace, light everywhere, reflecting and disintegrating into the ice.

I turn to Garth, who is looking serious now. He pulls me to him, tenderly, and we twine ourselves around each other, intimately associating all of our appendages within and around one another.

He kisses me, and I feel him, in me, around me, within me, holding me together as with his fingers and tongue he tears me apart.

Magic weaves around us in grand spirals. Everywhere Garth touches me becomes hypersensitive. I feel my whole body being spun into a spring, tighter and more tense than I have ever felt before.

Garth's hand on the base of my cock and my own training are the only things that prevent me from exploding after 5 seconds.

He whispers, with such lilting beauty, into my ear,

For he comes, the human child,  
To the waters and the wild  
With a faery, hand in hand,   
From a world more full of weeping than he can understand.

I let go, I let it all go, I release myself to him, completely, I surrender.

He has me, he holds me.

I am safe.

I am bliss.

It's dawn before we return home. I'm going to miss a shift, but who the fuck cares, I'm far too well fucked and exhausted right now to help anyone.

I call in as we drive home, as Garth drives me home, and I don't care how many ësick' days I've taken so far, I really and truly don't.

I rest my head on Garth's shoulder, fuzzy and content.

"Garth?"

"Yeah?"

"Yeats?"

He grins. "It was the only book of poetry you have. I figured it must be special."

I look off into the distance, seeing nothing that is really there. "It was my mother's," I say softly, as if remembering. "She loved all things Irish. Her heritage was important to her. She read those to me as a child."

He looks at me, I can tell even though I'm faced away from him. "Did she read that one to you?"

I chuckle at the way Garth has transformed that poem for me. "She did. You read it better."

He grins.

"Garth?"

"Yeah?"

"When you need me to, do I take care of you the way you take care of me?"

He pauses. He never speaks in haste. "When I feel I haven't the courage to continue the fight, you are there to bolster me by example, in the way of a true leader. When I feel isolated, you have a casual way of being intimate that makes me feel at home. You have a strange and charming sense of humor that lightens me at the most unexpected times. I suspect that we together support each other like that, unconsciously, all the time. But, when I heard the news last night...."

"I don't want to think about last night." I speak quickly, but without the bitterness I would expect to be speaking with so soon afterwards.

"I know, brat," he speaks with such gentle affection, as he rubs his cheek against the top of my head, "I just mean... it was unusual. I think that under similar circumstances, that yes, you would take care of me like that." He pauses, and I know he isn't finished. "I just haven't lost my faith since we have come together yet."

I hear all the unsaid things, but just snuggle closer, content in my certainty that he knows.

"With a faery hand in hand, indeed," I snicker. He smiles with smug affection.

He steals me all over again.


	9. Ties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simple things stir old memories. Rating: Teen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> notes: ah, this is for 'rithy, who taunted me with the lovely images she just put on her site. she wanted to know if anything inspired me. apparently... ^_~

Garth stood in front of the mirror, his white shirt hanging over his briefs as he held up two different ties against his chest. He hated wearing briefs; they were too confining and unnatural. But he found that there were some pants that just didn't hang right if he went au naturale, so...

It was a choice between the gold and navy and the purple and black. Now, the purple and black would compliment his... features... better, but the gold and navy might coordinate with his suit better.

Oh, if only Donna were here...

He was taken completely by surprise when arms wound around him, and a kiss was placed on his neck. "Why don't I wear the purple and black, and you can wear the navy and gold?"

Garth smiled at the Dick in the mirror. "Ok."

Dick tossed the tie he chose for himself aside, and took the one for Garth in his hands. "Let me?"

Garth just leaned back and smiled.

Dick's arms took the place of Garth's, and wrapped the silk around Garth's neck. He pressed his front against Garth's back, molding their bodies together as tightly as he could. With deft, familiar motions, he formed the knot, his mouth brushing the lobe of Garth's ear gently as he did.

"Alfred used to do this for me."

"Really? Alfred used to rub himself off against your back?" Garth's teasing smile mocked the mirror-Dick lovingly.

"No!" Dick pinched his lover in the join of thigh and hip, making Garth squirm in his arms. "Actually..." Dick's eyes went faraway, and filled with wonder. "My father did this for me, first. I was... six? Maybe seven. One of the animal trainers was getting married, and he asked me to be the ring bearer."

The tie was done in a perfect Windsor knot. Dick let his arms rest on Garth's hips, his chin propped up on Garth's shoulders. Garth leaned back every so slightly, smiling into the mirror-eyes of the person he loved best, telling a story he'd never heard before.

"It wasn't a very traditional ceremony, but all the guys were in monkey suits. So, my dad got on his knees behind me, and tied my little tie. We had ascots, so even though I was small, it wasn't a clip on. He had his arms around me... I can still smell the aftershave, and sawdust smell." Dick was smiling, staring off into space, his arms tightening around Garth as he spoke. "And... he was a hairy man, he always had a five o'clock shadow. Mom used to make him shave twice a day, when she could get him to. So, his cheek was against mine, rubbing." Dick leaned up and rubbed his cheek against Garth's.

Garth took Dick's hands in his, and put their hands over his belly. "You don't talk about your father, or mother, much." Dick was still smiling. It wasn't his usual rakish grin. It almost made him look like a little boy. Garth had known Dick since they were kids, and he'd never seen Dick like this.

Dick turned his head slightly, so that his forehead rested on Garth's cheek. "I don't... remember them that well. I remember a lot of stuff, but... I was very young when they were killed. I remember a lot about training with my parents, and our trailer, and... about the night they died. But little things, like this... I only remember when something triggers it, you know?"

Garth nodded, feeling a little like a spell had been cast over the two of them. Dick was so... radiant. He hardly wanted to speak, for fear it might break the spell, but he also wanted to hold onto the moment for as long as he could, for Dick. "What was he like?"

"My father?" Dick responded as if the question were a strange one. "He was strong. Like a titan," Dick chuckled, "or at least I thought he was." He pulled away slightly, just enough so that Garth silently gasped for the lack of his heat. "He could fly." And that was it, that was all that needed to be said.

Garth smiled, turning his face to kiss Dick. It lasted long enough to make Garth really wish they didn't have to leave in five minutes. When they broke off, Dick rested his forehead on Garth's, as if he needed to catch his breath.

"My parents would have loved you, you know."

Garth trembled, from the timber of Dick's voice, so close to him. He wanted to believe that the words were just something someone would say.

Dick could feel Garth's hesitancy. "No, they would have."

"They would have approved?" Garth's teasing whisper didn't hide his small fear. The surface world had as many ugly qualities as it had beauty.

"They were circus people, for crying out loud." Dick teased back without fear, only a smile. "No, they would have loved you." He pulled his head up, his blue eyes dancing as they met Garth's bottomless violets. "They only ever wanted what was best for me."

With a quick kiss to Garth's nose, Dick pulled away to finish getting dressed.

Garth just stood there, in front of the mirror, breathing deeply the air that was magically sustaining him, wishing like hell they didn't have to go to dinner with Babs tonight.

He leaned against the mirror in his shirt, tie, and briefs, and pretended, for a moment, that he didn't have to put pants on anytime in the foreseeable future.


	10. Missing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A homecoming. Rating: Mature.

He heard it first. The gentle push of the door opening, the soft padding of bare feet on the floor. There was a tender crush of clothing being dropped onto more clothing.

He felt the knee coming down on the bed, quickly followed by the other knee, and two hands. His intruder crawled up the length of his body, coming to rest next to him, a bare chest pressed against his blanket-covered back. An arm snaked over his waist, and there was the oh so precious feeling of lips on his neck.

He kept his eyes closed, his senses swimming. He could smell the sweat and the trace of blood that coated his lover's body. He would investigate later to find out what was the matter, but for right now, he merely waited, keeping his body still but pliant.

A soft lick to his earlobe, and he was shuddering. "Miss me?"

He could not help but smile, but he kept his eyes shut. "Not for a minute."

"No?" He could hear the pout, and he could see it in his mind, the irresistible bottom lip pushed out, the way blue eyes would dim like a switch had been lowered, and of course, the petulant twitching of mouth as his lover tried to maintain the pose. "Not even a little?"

He sighed, and rolled a bit back, giving more access. "I've been busy with research for the latest surface projects. Didn't have a moment to spare."

Fingers danced over the skin on his chest, and he felt each nerve ending individually firing. A rough, callused index fingertip traced a circle just outside the perimeter of his nipple. "Did you miss my touches?"

He sighed and he rolled his shoulders, reaching up absently to rub at the arms that were trying to hold him. The skin was flushed and warm, the hairs on the forearms standing up enough to tingle his palms. "Too busy."

There was warning first, the way the air seemed to thicken, to heat, and then the lips were on his, and there was the astonishing burst of taste, a centralization of his perceptions magnifying the contact. "My kisses?"

He lazily arched his back so that he could continue to enjoy the kiss even as his partner was retreating. "I made a big bowl of garlic pasta. I haven't had kissing breath."

A leg situated itself between his, and there was the thickness of the muscle, and the scratching of the hairs against his own. He focused on that feeling, angling his hips to avoid bumping the organ that was at the top of the leg. "What about this? Have you missed me here?" Suddenly, there was a grinding push of hips against his hips, and everything sparked and caught fire.

"Oh," he moaned, "I found your old vibrator in the back of the closet. It's waterproof, did you know?"

A deep chuckle sent him quivering as the vibrations off the body above him cascaded over him. "Open your eyes."

He coyly grinned, withholding for just a moment, before capitulating. There were the most vibrant blue eyes staring down at him, and the most beautiful smile beaming down on him.

Garth reached up to thread his fingers through Dick's hair. "I'm glad you are home. In one piece."

Dick lowered himself onto Garth, latching onto Garth's mouth with a passion that spoke of fear, and relief. "I am so very, very grateful to be able to come home to you. Did you know that?"

Garth shook his head, wanting to laugh, wanting to show Dick what he knew about gratitude and loneliness. He said nothing, his hands reaching, grabbing, pulling Dick down until they were pressed flush against each other, limbs circling like tentacles, searching for access.

A cloud drew around them, and they became isolated in the sensation of their expressions, the sound of the sea crashing into the sand echoing through Garth's head as they created their rhythm all over again.

When the temperature had cooled, Garth drew his arms around Dick, and pulled his tight into his embrace. He could feel the regular puffs of breath that indicated that Dick had already fallen asleep, and he ghosted his hands over Dick's body, trying to visualize each tiny fragment of the landscape of Dick's skin by touch alone.

There was a single element he didn't crave about this man when they were apart.


End file.
